Forgotten Future
by Theo of Doom
Summary: What if Artemis never met the People? What if Holly Short never knew Artemis? How would the life of a genius was fated to be, and how did fate made it become anothet. Contains: Some violence and a bit of improper language.
1. Angel's madness

**If you are reading this, I advise that you possibly won't like this story. I don't how to classificate it, K+? No. T? Maybe. I think is more M, but I don't know, is just violent. I really need a clarification here.**

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Artemis breathed loudly after entering at the room. The feet floating in the air. For a moment, the last living Fowl felt like a child again. Helpless. He recalled three years ago. The one he tried to save. But he was a Fowl, and Fowls weren't made to save. They only destroyed. Now, he was the last.

The room. The last time he entered there his father was still alive. No, he was already dead, Artemis just believed that hadn't happened. The sheets were scattered around the room, filthy. The cushions were torn, his last attempt. Since that time, he removed all sharp objects with which she could get hurt. However he couldn't imagine that she would use one of his former gowns to take life.

No, of course he could. He was a genius after all. Maybe he didn't want to do it. Do what decency commanded as a facade, but wish that she died. He shouldn't be surprised about his nature. At the end, he was a monster. A smart monster, and wicked.

The room, for goodness' sake. The window was opened, the wind blew all the memories. Photos of his parents, and also a picture of a child. He held the last one, a photograph of Artemis Fowl I, Angeline Fowl and their three years old son, Artemis Fowl II. At that time, his mother used to call him Arty. They were at the greenhouse. Angeline sat on a chair, with her son on her lap. Her husband with a serious look behind her. Nobody, except Angeline Fowl, could say that Artemis Fowl I had a beautiful smile, because he never showed it to anyone else but her.

The smell of lilies was in the air, a sickly aroma. He looked for a suicidal letter, but it was clear that there wasn't one. His mother was not lucid enough to think of reasons to die, it was the only thing she wanted to do in all these eight years.

After seven months he finally touched the beautiful pale skin of his mother again, just to free her from the rope. He needed help.

"Butler" he shouted. "Come here."

The bodyguard entered, gasping. "Mrs. Fowl…"

"…hanged herself" he finished, wiping away a lone tear. "Well, this was expected".

The servant removed the body from the gallows. "Artemis…"

"Master Fowl. You may leave, Butler. I think you have a funeral to plan. And I must talk to Mr. Mynatt." He ordered.

Mr. Mynatt, a Scotland Yard officer. Once in a while it was necessary a bit of persuasion to avoid an investigation, and sometimes, a bit of it to gain some information. The kind that wasn't archived in any system in the world, otherwise he would be able to hack it. The kind that would be very useful in the meeting of the next day.

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It was around 4:00 am when Butler decided open the door of his master's study. There he was, in front of the computer, his face looked as the face of a vampire. Hacking? No. It was just reports. In five minutes, he was done. Just to walk through his gallery. The Edvard Munch section. He was going crazy. Butler shut the door, returning to the first floor. He wasn't hoping to see Artemis sleeping, truth. Artemis hadn't had a night of sleep in the last six months. But maybe he could just be reading a book.

Artemis stared at the paintings. _Puberty_, the one which was believed to have burned in a fire. _Summer in Åsgårdstrand_, _A Small Beach Study_, _Childhood Memory_, _The Day After_, _The Sick Child_ and _The Girl by the Window_, that he had stolen. There was a time his loved one was _Puberty_, when fear was the only thing that made him advance. But that day he couldn't take his eyes of _The Girl by the Window, _imagining if it could portray his mother.

_The Sick Child, _a lithography, couldn't make his heart throb more. If Much's sister was dying from tuberculosis, his mother had died because he couldn't make her happy. It was all his fault, he couldn't blame something like _Mycobacterium tuberculosis_.

_The Day After, _people said, a painting of a prostitute after sex. But to him, all he could see was a dead corpse, tired of her life. Tired of enduring a life of despair. He wanted to touch the artwork, however he wasn't able to. Touching it could compromise the entire work, which persisted for decades._ She is still here, but I have no right to touch her. I never had. Isn't ironic that I can't touch something that touched every day during the time I was still in her womb?_

Artemis looked to the Self-Portrait that he had stolen two years ago. He never thought that Edvard Much looked like his father but there, with half of his face covered by shadows, the artist made him remember Artemis Fowl I. Of course not with his last memory of him. If he had _The Death of Marat_ it would make more sense. Unfortunately, that one was in Oslo.

"_The corpse was delivered at 1__st__ of September, the day of his fifteen birthday. He was able to invite his mother to the garden, they were talking about amenities. He usually wouldn't waste time doing that, but he was assured his mother would be able to recover from now on. As a psychiatrist, he was able to see progress in the last two months he had not seen in the last five years. She didn't have any light in her eyes but her skin wasn't that of a ghost anymore. She seemed a bit more lively. And she was able to give him a small smile. Of course, he didn't answered to that, since his smile usually made him look as a vampire. _

"_Butler called Artemis, and informed him first. But Angeline Fowl was able to hear, and run to the hall. There, she found the corpse of her husband, or parts of it. One leg wasn't there, neither the ear. Perhaps one of the killers thought funny pluck one arm or maybe they just have decided to send one of the arms they found the explosion. If Artemis liked to bet, he would bet on the first._

"_He covered the eyes of his mother, but was too late. She screamed, scared and desperate. Her nails dug into her son's flesh, and although Artemis wasn't athletic, he was able to endure the pain, while blood dripped from his arms. _

"_Timmy, my love, Timmy, I warned you. Timmy…I asked you to don't go, my Timmy, my handsome Timmy, my bad Timmy…Timmy, Timmy…Angeline had been whispering and screaming at the same time, sobbing in a world where none else was invited."_

"_Mother, I'm here. Everything is alright, listen to me. Calm down. He tried, but it was obvious that words wouldn't have any effect. He asked with his eyes to Butler bring the sedative, and then carry her to the room she used to stay._

"_Then he was alone with his father. The eyes were open for a long time, so he couldn't do anything about it. It was the first time he was able to face his father. Dead, his face looked less scary, but made he remembered the time that implacable face would accept nothing more than perfection._

"_And Artemis did everything he could to be perfect. And now, he was dead. He would never be able to see that in five years, his son doubled the family fortune. Extortion, government and corporate crimes, art stealing and forgery. Everything that made the Fowl Empire an Empire. Murders and kidnappings have never been the line of work of the Fowl. _But, _reflected the heir of the whole Empire, _it could end up being. I already know my first work. _And revenge was the first reason to Artemis Fowl II kill. But it wasn't the only._

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**Dreadful? I agree. I liked this chapter, though. Feel free to give your opnion. Again, if you find some mistakes, warn me so I can correct it. Again, I'm better understanding English that writing it. **

**See ya', Theo. **


	2. Start

**Hello! Sorry for the wait, I was trying to get into college. I did it! Thanks for the reviews. **

**About meeting the fairies, this is possible to happen. I'm not sure yet. But, it will probably happen later. ****And The elusive shadow, thank you so much for your review, it was very enlightening. Guess I will need some help. **

**I hope you like this chapter!**

Everything started when Artemis Fowl II was ten years old. His father had the perfect project in his hands, a new and legal project that would benefit the Fowl family, he was going to Russia. Then the Russian Mafia bombed his ship full of 250,000 cans of cola, and the Fowl Star sank in the Kola Bay.

Artemis Fowl tried to found his father for three years, until he received a message from the Mafia asking for a ransom. A ransom by which the Fowl family could not afford. Artemis had been able to maintain some fortune, but most of the money had been lost, and the child watched helpless the life of his father being taken. Well, he didn't watch it, but he knew the truth. There was no benefit in keeping someone alive, if this one couldn't provide any money.

The day he was informed his father was dead, Artemis understood how foolish they had been. It was obvious that Mafia wouldn't like having a Western Businessman taking a chunk in their business – Artemis should have noticed it, he was a genius, after all. Yet he turned a blind eye to the matter, thinking about making Artemis Senior happy. His biggest failure was to believe that everything would work out.

Two years later, Butler received a call. One of his friends from the Customs found a box addressed to his boss, and asked what he should do. Butler assured that he would speak with Artemis, but then it disappeared. Three days later, the box appeared in front of the gate of Fowl Manor. The gardeners carried the box into the hall, and later that day, the body of Artemis Fowl I was found inside it.

Nobody understood exactly how did had happened but Master and Servant agreed in something, revenge was needed. Artemis Fowl the Second never was an innocent person, but he became someone darker with the time. The genius, that lived only for Science and Business, became a criminal. The son who lived his life concerned with his parents' well-being became a merciless killer. The scientist inside him was locked into a disguise of an arms manufacturer and a hacker. Slowly, he killed the ones responsible for his father's death. No one could care less with the world than him.

As a son, Artemis never fulfilled his role. He failed with his father, trying to make up with his mother was selfishness. He never mean to be a good son, so he wouldn't be. He ignored Angeline during those three years. He knew that she was mad, but he couldn't help her. He wasn't a healer, he was a hunter. He knew how she suffered but there was only one way. Artemis hoped that one day she would see what her son had done, and she'd thank him. The genius knew it was stupid, Angeline Fowl was a pacifist, she would never approve his methods, but it was the only thing he could do. The only thing he learned to do.

He hoped everything would be okay, but now his mom was dead. She had been dying for a long time, since his father's accident. There were so many stages in her illness. Once she was a child, that could only remember being pure. She didn't remember her husband, neither her son. To her, Artemis Fowl the Second was just an arrogant child. Then she was a bride, happy with her groom, that sometimes were her son, and others, her pillow. There was times she was conscious of everything, these were the worst. She just shouted her husband name, and cried. For days her cries roamed around the Fowl Manor. When that passed, most of times she couldn't remember anything, her name, her son's names, her hair color. Everything was always new to her, and strange.

She just wandered around the Manor, like a ghost. Artemis didn't care. When he had visitors, he instructed someone to look after her. It was ironic that one years after his father's death he would become able to pay the ransom, restoring their status of billionaires. When he received the corpse everything was going well, but with the revenge thing his business boosted. Everyone bought his weapons, his bombs – governments, Mafia, general criminals, and intelligence agencies – besides these he always keep his victims' fortune. He continued to steal artworks.

He should organize the funeral now. The burial of his last relative. The Fowls were dead. There was no hope that Artemis would continue the household Now they just had to disappear as rich criminals, and that Artemis would do. He would drain the world of all wealth, and destroy all unrighteousness. All those who underestimate the family would pay.

Artemis closed his eyes, remembering the time he was just a kid, trying to became a man. He became a man. He was fifteen years, five months and three days the first time he killed.

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"Who was the one that killed Mr. Fowl?" asked Butler, in a tone that showed Matvey that the giant wasn't kidding. Mr. Lagunov shivered when the eurasian placed his hands in his neck.

The Russian was a brave man and to all his honor, he didn't answered the question. But no one can ignore a Butler, and Matvey Lagunov was not an exception. He felt the blood on his face, trying to circulate through his body. He tried to reach the hands, grabbing the members. Obviously, it was an unnecessary effort. His brain screamed that he was being strangled, but he could not react.

_God, I promise I'll become a better person. I'll go to church, I promise to never lie anymore, and I'm tired of killing. I will always follow your commands. _Butler then released him. He was saved, or so he thought. Then he realized the far more sinister presence in the back.

Artemis Fowl showed his a vampire grin. Usually, his presence would be enough to scare someone, but that man was tough. He smiled. A smile without joy, just irony. And that was a little ironic, an assassin fearing a child that had never killed someone.

The genius looked at his weapons. A Sig Sauer – no, Butler wouldn't approve - the branding iron with the coat of your family - no, too traceable - a knife - easy to handle, but too heinous - a rope - he liked to work with the rope, but it was totally useless there.

There were bombs, candles, hot wax, arrows, poison, paper (yeah, it was a lethal weapon), and a huge amount of weapons that Artemis knew the name. But he ignored all of them, deciding to take a more simple way, but much more effective. The man would remember that day for all his life. Artemis didn't like assassins. Well, he didn't like anyone, neither himself.

"You can leave now, Butler." He commanded, while entering into the cell. "Lock the door, me and Mr. Lagunov need to talk." The scared man stared the young genius, and didn't say anything.

"Well, I hear you have a daughter, Sacha is her name, isn't it? I'm sure that you wife Anya would be very upset if her daughter didn't return her. Falling into madness isn't something beautiful if you ask me." The man grasped. His family. He stared the neck of Fowl, the pale skin couldn't be the skin of someone who is strong, maybe he could harm Master Fowl.

"But you can rest peacefully. This is all hypocrisy and I'm not a simpleton. No, a destroyed family can make you wish for revenge, and I don't want to be disturbed by the thought of Mafia swearing revenge on me."

"No. Because of that, the only thing I can do is make you fear me. Destroy. I'm sorry."

It lasted two hours. At first, Matvey hadn't felt the danger. Artemis was like a psychologist. Just one drug, to make the "guest" relaxed. He asked about his childhood. Matvey told him about minor stories that couldn't offer any harm.

He told about his dad, who used to went with him to skate. Once his father made a draw in the ice, the simple draw of his dog which had just died. When Matvey was nine years old, his father was found dead, during the winter.

Then he told Artemis like his mother overcome the death. When he was twelve, his mother was a smiling and hard-working lady. When he was fourteen, she had married to a terrible man, who hated the son of her previous wedding, and ordered him to go away. When he was nineteen, Matvey killed his mother's husband – someone who had business with yakuza.

Artemis grinned over that story, and then reveled him the whole truth – and it was truth, Artemis had chosen Matvey just because of that. His biological father had raped his mother, and because of that Matvey was born. They married because his maternal family was very conservative, and believed that marrying their daughter to a criminal was better than being ashamed.

The second husband of his mother was her lover since Matvey was three, and his father – that worked to Mafiya - tried to kill the lover in the day, but an enemy of his father saved the man. Since that, all his mother could think was about how to kill her unwanted child, but the lover saved him, sending his stepson away. Then Matvey murdered him.

Every time Artemis declared something, he showed the proofs. A newspaper, a medical register, letters, recordings, calls, videos, he also hacked Interpol archives in front of his guest to sustain his story. The proofs could be faked, but no one would forger all of them. Matvey started shivering, and that was only the first part. There were still several memories to be awakened and countless scars to be opened.

Nobody was surprised when the Russian started to shout: "Britva, the murder! It was his work!". "Who is Britva?" the genius asked. "Britva is Britva! Nobody knows his real name, but when he wants something, he achieves it. Well, except when he didn't receive your money."

If Butler was there, Artemis would have just ordered giant to kill the poor man, but he decided to just use the knife, craving it on his thigh. "The leg?" He asked, moving the knife in the wound, making the man scream. "Mikhael Vassikin". "And the ear?" Matvey thought about it. He could lie. Anyone sane would lie if was in his situation, but that boy would know. He knew everything. And he would returned. He swore to God that he would become someone better.

"I did".

Artemis looked to the Russian, he was a brave man. He could notice it, if he wanted. But Artemis had become unable to see the qualities of someone. To him, that man was a deplorable example of human race, a coward and someone unable to deal with the truth that he should already know. That person tortured the man who never looked to him. Maybe, he had heard the man scream. He was able to do what Artemis Fowl II never had seen, and never would – his father defeated. A simpleton like him had stained the Fowl's pride. He cut his neck without hesitation and, as someone who was able to teach an anatomy class before turning two years old, it was an easy task.

_I will never understand why Butler said is hard to kill. It was pretty simple. It must be a genius thing. _

His phone ringed just in time. "Butler?" "Yes, Master?" "Stop doing anything you are. I need you to remove a corpse here. Understood?" Artemis listened to one minute of silence just to hear: "Yes, Master Fowl."

.

Britva looked to the corpse. He knew Matvey Lagunov. His father was a small smuggler that no one cared about, but Matvey was a great assassin. He didn't have piety, but didn't make a fuss about killing, with all that symbols and horrendous ways of doing it. He just did it. And didn't leave anything that could bring suspicion to press. His appearance made people think he was an ordinary person, with an ordinary job. Maybe an effect of the glasses, the used tweed and the red hair.

"How did it happened?" the boss asked. "Everything was going well, like always. They had handle the money, the Ainsworths were dead. When we opened the huge suitcase, we found him." Kamar explained.

His employee body didn't had several stretches. Someone had tried to suffocate him, but he was killed with a cut in his throat. The ear was missing. His thigh was injured, and that's all. He would need to call his beautiful but dramatic wife, Anya. They had finally found where was, after three weeks.

.

Two thousand miles away, a raven-haired teen smiled. The delivery would have arrived to Russia.

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**So? What did you think? Review me please!**


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